I am lying on the bedcovers, my white dressing gown glowing in the moonlight spilling from the open window. A slight breeze swirls the curtains and a chill runs down my spine. My chest rises and falls as if I had just run across the lawn of Longbourn. A few moments of silence pass when I spot a long shadow across the floor in front of the window. I attempt to move, but realize my body is paralyzed. Only my eyes shift at will.

The figure sits beyond my sight range as if he’s perching along the edge of the wall like a bird. Dread overtakes me as I notice a man standing outside my second-story room for no reason. As this thought races through my mind, the mysterious person enters the room. Instantly, I recognized him. His handsome face belongs to Mr. Bingley, but the raw, bloodshot stare he gives me is that of an animal. He wears a dark cape, unbuttoned, and is missing a hat typically worn by gentlemen. His boots are pristine, as if they never touch the ground.

Neither of us speaks a word. The only sound comes from the soft pants that escape my lips. Mr. Bingley sweeps across the floor to rest by the bedside. He is close now. From my vantage, I notice how pale he is, which is odd because he always had a rosy flush on his cheeks in our previous encounters. His presence in my bedchamber is unacceptable, and being discovered now would be disastrous. However, I care little about the risk of discovery.

My heart is already his. He kneels on the mattress, and I detect the dip as his weight settles on top of it. A grin spreads across his lips, and two fangs protrude from his mouth. I recall the tales Mama used to tell us about the horror of vampires, creatures who roam the night, and drain the blood from helpless maidens lying asleep in their beds. I’m at peace with the fact that I’ll soon be a victim of this demonic creature.

Mr. Bingley leans closer, his face nestling along my decolletage. Wisps of kisses flutter along my collarbone before he stops at the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. He nips that spot once, and I feel his teeth slide before a sharp pain follows.

“Ah!”

I startle awake with my night clothes sticking to my sweat-soaked body. My hair is plastered to my face, and I flip it over my shoulder to clear my vision. It is still dark, but the moon is lower in the sky, showing it will be daybreak soon. The window is closed, and the curtains lay undisturbed. A purview of the bedchamber reveals I am alone. No vampire and no Mr. Bingley. My back hits the pillow, and disappointment floods my heart. I despise he can only be present with me in a fantasy.